


Mrs. Hudson's Hoover

by PatPrecieux



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: First Time, John is a Saint, M/M, Masturbation Interruptus, Season/Series 01, Sexual Humor, Sherlock is a Brat
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 01:08:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,014
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10686651
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PatPrecieux/pseuds/PatPrecieux
Summary: Mrs. Hudson's Hoover needs repair. Sherlock offers to "help".





	Mrs. Hudson's Hoover

**Author's Note:**

> When John goes to work, he NEVER knows what will be waiting for him when he gets home.

More than anything, Sherlock hated not knowing things. Second only to that was being frustrated, and at the moment he was beyond frustrated, he was desperate.

 

For weeks he had held both his transport and Mind Palace well out of reach of the seemingly irresistible John Watson, until the morning John had appeared in the kitchen in nothing but his bright red pants. True, it was unintentional as Sherlock had been in the shower. The doctor wasn't to know that his lazy flatmate couldn't even be bothered to turn off the taps. Nevertheless, the damage was done.

 

Since that day, Sherlock had been one blue balled boy. Finally, to his chagrin, he had resorted to making a most distasteful decision, purchasing a sex aid. The detective refused to call it a toy, it was a piece of equipment for a scientific experiment.

 

At last the day came when John would be working a twelve hour shift, and Sherlock could proceed. With a clinical eye, he withdrew the sleek bullet vibrator from the box and flipped the switch. Nothing.

 

With a growl of annoyance he tore open the instructions. To his horror, the following words jumped off the page -BATTERIES NOT INCLUDED. Always eloquent, his response - "Shit"!

 

"Well needs must," he thought as he began to seek every battery in the flat. Not one was the required size. This was intolerable and Sherlock was now pacing and pulling roughly at his curls as he muttered, "Think, THINK!"

 

Suddenly, an ungodly noise filtered up from 221A and his prayers were perhaps answered. "MRS.HUDSON!" 

 

~~~***~~~

 

Only the threat of a smack with her favorite wooden spoon deterred Sherlock from tearing apart her flat.

 

"Sherlock, dear, I'm sorry but I don't have that size battery. It's not a common one is it? What's it used in anyway?"

 

"Nothing to concern you, Mrs.Hudson. I'll manage somehow."

 

"Why don't you just buy one dear?"

 

"That would involve dressing and going out. Boring! On another topic, what was that terrible racket?"

 

"I'm afraid my Hoover is on life support, as your John would say. The motor shakes like a drunken man, and the suction seems to have gone mad. Just before, the possessed thing swallowed my best head scarf like a canapé. Made me a nervous wreck, but the idea of buying a new one, well..."

 

As if struck by lightning, the magnificent brain began plotting. "Why don't I have a look at it for you while you relax with a trip to the shops, or a movie and lunch with Mrs.Turner?"

 

"I didn't know you repaired appliances Sherlock, are you sure?"

 

"Mechanical things are just another puzzle, I can deduce it."

 

"A day out with Mrs.Turner does sound lovely. If it's no trouble."

 

Putting a gentle arm around small shoulders, he positively beamed. "No trouble at all Hudders. I'll even rescue your scarf. Now run along and enjoy."

 

~~~***~~~

 

The old upright Hoover didn't surrender said scarf without a fight, but there was no harm done except for the cloud of dust and pile of debris that now settled over the sitting room. Fortunately Sherlock had stripped to his black Y fronts and nothing else. Rubbing his hands together with glee he chuckled, "The game is on!"

 

Admittedly ignorant of any cleaning device, it took the detective several tries to correctly deduce how the various attachments connected to the main vacuum. Eventually, the long flexible plastic hose was secured in it's coupling and Sherlock plugged in his experiment.

 

Stripping off his pants, he coated the vibrator with lube and cautiously inserted it. True, without batteries it wouldn't function, but as a dildo it would suffice. 

 

Turning on the Hoover, resulted in it's shimmying across the carpet on it's own. Sherlock placed it back in the center of the room and lowered himself to the floor sitting on the broad base, the vibrator barely resting on the edge.

 

Flipping the switch sent such a jolt through Sherlock that he pitched backwards off his "seat". Now knowing what to expect, his second effort was successful. The heat and vibration from the Hoover pulsed up his perineum and balls with delicious effect, the tip of the dildo rattling against the base. But he wanted more.

 

Shutting off his new friend, he took a moment to slick his penis and encase it in the "embrace" of the flexible hose. He then investigated which tactic was preferable. Flipping the Hoover on and off at intervals was interesting, but ultimately he found constant vibration and suction to be most satisfying.

 

As he settled deeper into sexual bliss his mind wandered to John. Squirming on the base while he humped the hose he began panting and then cried out, "John, oh God, Jawwnnnn!"

 

~~~***~~~

 

John had never been so glad for a watermain break in his life. The clinic had been a beastly invasion of puking babies, and spring allergies. Closing out a planned double shift before lunch was a blessing.

 

Sighing with relief, he welcomed the peace of home until Sherlock screamed. Dashing up the stairs, he burst in the door cursing that his Sig Sauer was in his gun safe and not on his belt.

 

"Sherlock! Are you allll ri-ght??"

 

Frozen in place, he stared, mouth open, at his flatmate seemingly riding and getting busy with Mrs.Hudson's Hoover.

 

"What the bloody hell are you doing?"

 

Trying to cover his embarrassment Sherlock scoffed, "That should be obvious even to you doctor."

 

"What's obvious to me is you're in the process of violating our landlady's vacuum. Therefore, I'll just leave you to it."

 

Sherlock flipped the switch and the room went deadly quiet. When John turned on his heel towards the door, the deep voice cracked. "John don't go, please. I...I "

 

"Sherlock, this is awkward enough as it is. I'll go for lunch and come back when you're done ah, hoovering."

 

"John I'm sorry this is uncomfortable for you, but I need help."

 

"How exactly is it that I'm expected to help you, as if I actually want to know."

 

Blushing deep pink from head to toe, Sherlock almost whispered, "I find the stimulation is not quite sufficient to reach my desired result, which of course would be..."

 

"God above you wanker." Realizing his words, now John was blushing. "I'm aware of your intentions. Not my business."

 

"John", now he sounded somewhat in pain, "the suction isn't enough to, I mean I can't, must I spell it out? Fine! I'm stuck!!"

 

For a moment John began to laugh, but then seeing Sherlock's distress and humiliation, he stopped. Shaking his head, he crouched down beside the younger man and patted his bare back.

 

"All right. First, let's get you off the floor. Just let me..Up you go."

 

"John stop! The desired result is NOT the removal of my dangly bits!" 

 

Now John had to chuckle, "Your dangly bits? Lovely. Here, we'll detach the hose. Ok stand up. Good, I'll just have a look shall I?"

 

Sherlock hissed, "That's the idea is it not?"

 

"Oi, no sassing your doctor young man, or I'll leave you to you own "devices" as it were."

 

"Very funny Watson. I'm in pain, IF that counts for anything." Pulling away from John's grip, he turned sharply not taking into account the plastic extension currently attached to his body.

 

The hose whipped around striking John sharply in the shins. "Watch it you menace! Christ Jesus don't move until we figure this out. Calm down, you'll hurt yourself, and I won't allow it. Are we understood?"

 

"Yes sir."

 

John's eyebrows disappeared into his hairline, but he smiled. "First, can you, ah you know, touch yourself?"

 

"Not effectively. I can't achieve...no."

 

Holding the hose loosely, John examined his friend. "Glad they don't still have the metal attachments for these things, you'd be in a right mess."

 

"And this isn't?"

 

"Not as bad as cuts and abrasions. Well there's nothing for it, I'll have to give you a hand. It's all fine."

 

He looked up to see Sherlock staring at his feet while twisting a scarf nervously in his hands. "What's that then?"

 

"Mrs.Hudson's favorite scarf. Long story, the Hoover ate it."

 

Taking the long fingers in his strong hand John tugged, "We'd best take this to your bedroom."

 

~~~***~~~

 

Soon John had Sherlock on his hands and knees in the middle of the bed. He frowned at the object peeking out from between two plush arse cheeks.

 

"Going to take this out now Sherlock. Little pull, that's all." Expecting resistance, John was stunned as the lightweight vibrator popped loose flying across the room.

 

"Sorry, should have warned you, no batteries."

 

"Of course, silly me not to deduce it. No batteries, hence the make-shift invention. Right, now here's what's going to happen. Since you can't achieve release manually, I'm going to stimulate your prostate until you orgasm. Simple as that."

 

"Nothing about this is simple John. I wanted to be discreet so you would never know of my weakness, of my...sentiment."

 

John saw he was trembling and couldn't stop himself from placing a light kiss between the wiry shoulder blades. "I think that ship sailed when you screamed my name whilst having oral sex with a vacuum hose."

 

Sherlock groaned, burying his face in a down pillow. "Can we please just get on with this?"

 

Rubbing Sherlock's back in long firm strokes John sighed. "This isn't a chore for me you know. Truth is I've thought of having you like this for a while now, minus the attachment that is. I'm your doctor, your friend, and I hope maybe more. I'll make this good for you, I promise."

 

Going so slowly Sherlock wanted to pass out, John worked his magic on the prostate under his care until the detective was writhing in ecstasy and begging for release.

 

"That's it love, you're doing brilliantly. So beautiful, so sexy for me, I want to ravish you every day for the rest of our lives. Come for me Sherlock, let me see you wrecked, come now!"

 

Wailing John's name over and over as if he had solved the world's greatest mystery, Sherlock parted ways with his plastic companion.

 

~~~***~~~

 

A few minutes later, Sherlock rolled over in a half stupor, and met John's eyes. "John your trousers seem to have suffered from our encounter."

 

"If you mean you made me shoot off in my pants like a teenager, well spotted gorgeous. Can't say I'm sorry."

 

Without shame, he shrugged out of his clothes and climbed back on the bed as naked as his new lover. A tender bony hand reached out with a cloth to clean the evidence off his stomach and groin.

 

"Sherlock, is that Martha's scarf you just used?"

 

"It's for science John, besides I'll just tell her it succumbed to it's battle with the Hoover."

 

"Fine, but we'll be buying her a replacement, AND a new vacuum. From the smell coming from the sitting room, I deduce the motor has burned out as a result of your "activities".

 

Sherlock was wide eyed and content. "You meant what you said about the rest of our lives? The two of us together?"

 

"Every word. I'm not likely to ever want anyone but you. After all, not many couples' first time involves a household appliance. How could I top that?"

 

Sherlock ran his hands up and down his chest, tweaking rosy nipples and raised his legs spreading his thighs. "You could try topping this. But not until I drain my ejaculate from inside the vacuum hose. The potential for experiments is thrilling!"

 

Before John could protest, a riot of curls and a bare arse flew from the room plastic hose in tow.

 

Grateful for the lack of a wet spot in the bed, John snuggled down to relax and wait for Sherlock to return. In the meantime, he would say one of his infrequent prayers usually reserved for when the detective was in danger.

 

This time however, it would be a twofold prayer. Thanks for London's aging watermain system, and eternal thanks for Mrs.Hudson's Hoover.

**Author's Note:**

> Spring cleaning can lead to the strangest things. Don't try this at home. ;D


End file.
